


Trainwreck

by Dymer



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Demon Dean Winchester, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, Mark of Cain, Pregnancy, Romance, Sex, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-19
Updated: 2018-12-19
Packaged: 2019-08-05 20:20:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,091
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16374389
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dymer/pseuds/Dymer
Summary: Dean can no longer fight the Mark and he realises that Death is his only last resort. Thinking this will work, he needs to say his goodbyes to her before summoning him. Words and emotions were exchanged only to find out his plan didn’t work out like he’d intended to. Eight months later, he runs into her. And receives the surprise of his life.





	Trainwreck

**Author's Note:**

> You’re a trainwreck  
> But with you, I’m in love  
> (Demi Lovato - Trainwreck)
> 
>  
> 
> Can be read as a stand-alone fic but for contextualisation of the OFC, refer to my other work ‘Out of the Silent Planet’.

No, it can’t be.

She is pregnant.

Really, really pregnant.

Dean’s mouth goes unexpectedly dry as he stares down at the large, rounded belly of the woman that used to be – _and_ _still is –_ a big part of his life, the woman whom he hasn't seen since eight months ago and whom has parted ways with him in the ugliest way possible. Sweat breaks out across his brow and in the centre of his palms.

He suddenly finds himself can't breathe. It feels as if all of the air has been forced out of him in one powerful squeeze.

_Is it mine?_

One week since he’d killed Death and released the Darkness, he still didn’t think it was a good idea to see her. And when it was well over a month later, he decided to stop by her house only to find out that she’d moved out. Changed her contact number as well and apparently quit her job at the hospital. None of her co-workers and neighbours now knows her whereabouts. This leads him to think that she might be doing this on purpose to stay away from him, which he kind of understands considering their last meeting.

_“Dean,” Julie gasped when she opened her door and found herself come eye to eye with a ragged, bruised, bloody and filthy Dean Winchester. It was the first time she’d seen him in months. When the Mark had led him to massacre twelve men holding her hostage, he took his abrupt leaving after she’d been saved. Telling her he would come back after he’d found the cure of the Mark_

_“Hi,” he said in a tired voice, staring back at her with weary eyes._

_She glanced down and saw a glimpse of the Mark of Cain from his rolled up sleeve. Then, she looked back up at him again, and hesitated as her eyes scanned his dishevelled appearance. Though, she could feel no danger standing next to him._

_Dean recognised the caution she was feeling, “It’s not my blood.”_

_When he took a step closer, she stepped back gingerly. “I’ve just cleared an entire vampire nest. No real human was harmed, if that makes you feel any better.” He explained half the truth. She would probably freak out if he mentioned the part where he’d also gotten Porter, a hunter acquaintance he met in Ohio, killed._

_“Why haven’t you healed yourself?” she asked coolly, taking note of the gashes in his face, the clotted blood along his temple and hands and the filth matting his hair._

_“I’m exhausted. I’ve been on a hunt 24/7 for days and drove all night. And you were the first person I wanted to see.” He said softly, his eyes moving all along her face. His gaze was like a caress along her lips, her jaw._

_Her expression slowly softened. The guarded look in her eyes was gone and she was now looking at him with more tenderness._

_“Let me heal you,” she offered, opening her door wider as a sign for him to come in._

_“No, I’ll be gone in a second. I wanted to tell you something.” He said softly, but trailed off._

Still he does not think there is someone else in the picture. He does not see a ring on her finger either. And of course, he knows nothing about pregnancy stuff but judging by the size of her belly now, there is only one thing that makes sense—

_Am I the father of the baby?_

If that's the case then it will be their child.

His and hers.

The pulse in his neck throbs once, twice and suddenly leaps to roaring life, under his skin, giving a wild, unexpected vitality to his withering heart…. And to other, more neglected and sensitive parts of his body. He notices that in Julie’s presence, he always comes alive in a way he doesn’t in any other people’s, not even when the Mark was successfully removed from his arm. Colours, once more, returns to his grey existence in a flash of heat and sawing breath.

In that second, Dean is hit with a crushing anvil of truth: he still wants her. He wants Julie with a possessive hunger that burns in his chest and inflames his lust. Yet, equally as startling is a desire for the child she is carrying to be his daughter or son.

“Dean,” Julie warily addresses him, winding her long, woollen coat around her mid-section in a gesture meant to both protect and hide.

In all honesty, he is wondering as to why she can be so calm, when he’s inwardly fighting his own mixed emotions and trying to form a coherent sentence.

He glances around, making sure they are alone in the shop aisle, and then quickly steps into her space, snaking his hand through the coat’s opening and stroking her swollen abdomen. He has to know. He _needs_ to know.

“Is it mine?” he asks.

She takes a couple of steps back abruptly, and her dark honey-brown eyes glitter with angry resentment.

“Hands off, Dean.”

He stares into her pretty face, he is probably imagining things but he could swear she is glowing, even as she stares at him with anger. He feels a sense of déjà vu settles over him; this game is exactly the same one they had played with each other during their last meeting. He now understands, through the lens of experience, that the stubborn set of her jaw and the squaring of her shoulders are her unique response to fear. Erecting a wall of false courage instead of running off, which she always exhibits because she secretly wants an explanation or an answer. This is her way of distracting him from the fact that he’s hit on a topic that is uncomfortable for her.

And he realises that’s exactly what she is doing right now. She only took a few steps back but didn’t turn around and walk away when she’d have had all the chance in the world, when he would’ve never stopped her from leaving.

Luckily for Dean, he knows just how to counter her pig-headedness.

He approaches her once more slowly to see if she’ll steps back again, but she remains where she is. Then, with a smooth caress over her belly, he lets his other hand joins the first. He slides both hands over her curves, feeling every inch of the changes to her body.

One of his hands slides up her neck, to stroke her cheek and tuck a strand of hair behind her ear. Her lashes flutter against her cheeks and her next breath hitches in her chest when he licks his lips and leans his face closer.

Damn but he’s missed this woman. She’s wrapped herself so tightly around his heart three years ago. He’s long realised that she has always been the sort of happiness and completion he’s always craved all his life. There have been dreams of a life, a life with her. He knows, without hesitation, that if he wasn’t a hunter, she’d be the one he wanted to start a family with. But as soon as he’d dream, he’d remember the ugly reality of who he is and what his actual life revolves around. Dean stops dreaming and focuses on the remembering.

And with the evidence before him of what might have been— his chest hurts as he becomes surer that this is all real.

“Tell me the truth. Is it mine?” he demands, his nose nearly touching hers.

Her eyes flare open and their gazes lock.

“No.” she says, “he is _mine._ ” She hisses with fierce protectiveness. “You gave up any rights to _us_ when you walked out that door and summoned Death—“ Her voice falters a little and she gives him a once-over look. “Which, judging by fact that you’re still breathing and in one piece, didn’t go down as you’d planned.”

_Julie blinked. “Okay, but just let me heal your wounds and if you wanna leave, I won’t stop you.”_

_Despite his hesitancy, he let her drag him inside. She sat him down on a stool in the kitchen, while she began searching for a fresh towel, antibiotic ointments and filling up a bowl of warm water._

_He watched her silently as she began cleaning the dirt off his face and dabbing a thin layer of the ointment on the abrasion near his brow._

_“So, what was it that you wanted to tell me?” she asked, breaking the silence._

_He didn’t immediately answer for several moments, and she didn’t encourage him to either as her gaze remained on where her fingers were cleaning the blood off his hand._

_“I found a way to get rid of the Mark.”_

_Her hands stopped their movement wrapping a sterile bandage around his palm. She looked up at him, her eyes beginning to gleam with clear hope. “Am I allowed to ask how?”_

_“A… friend of mine has the key to remove the curse. That’s all you need to know.”_

_“And you’re sure it’ll work?”_

_He nodded, studying her face again. He didn’t have a slight inclination to look away ever since she sat down in front of him, he figured since this would probably be the last time he’d see her, he would paint and remember every detail of her face in his memory._

_“He’s helped me with getting Sam’s soul back a few years ago. This is definitely on his level.”_

_A smile was slowly forming on her lips, “does that mean there is a possibility that you’ll stop trying to stay away from me?”_

_In a way, he would, because he would be dead. “Yeah,” he answered, “I definitely will.”_

_Her eyes widened and she smiled at the bright prospect._

_“This is the first time that I actually can breathe a sigh of relief at the prospect of seeing you again after you leave this time. I am truly happy you’ve finally found the answer, Dean.”_

_He closed his eyes, unable to look at her bright face any longer than a few moments._

_He finally opened his eyes when Julie stood up and went to the sink. This goodbye was harder than he’d thought. But he would regretted it even more in hell if he hadn’t come and seen her for the last time. His dream of having his own life with a woman that he loved had nearly become a reality almost a year ago, until Sam found him and started pumping human blood into his skin, making him human again._

_He could never understand how, after all that she’d witnessed him doing and found out what he could potentially turn into, she still had hope and believed he could overcome it. He was a total trainwreck. Yet, she’d told him that everyone deserved to dream of and pursue their own happy ending; which had led him to realise that the ‘hunter life equals no attachments’ mentality had always been a false outlook_ _._

_Julie was, and had always been his pursuit of happiness. And if the scythe of Death was how his story would end with, then he had to— needed to chase his ultimate contentment one last time. At least that was what he thought he deserved._

Dean squeezes his eyes shut. The child is his, and they are having a little boy together!

He strokes her soft flesh and relives the memory of her under and over him, and of being so deep inside her that he never wanted to come up for air. “Julie.” He murmurs, tilting his head to seek her lips. “I’m— _I,”_

She whimpers against the hot press of his mouth, “don’t.” she begs as his lips touch hers, and there is panic in her tone.

He can’t do as she asks. No matter that his head is screaming at him that she is right. And that there is no longer place in this world for them and might-have-beens. He’s royally screwed everything up, and she’s done trying.

He nips her bottom lip and tugs, pulling them together.

They melt into each other, and the familiar taste of her draws him in and pulls her down hard. His hands cup her face and the memory of their last night of passion comes back to him, the night when he’d, for the first time, uttered the L word in her ear in the throes of passion.

“Stop.” She breathes, even as she kisses him back. “We can’t.”

The shelf behind her shakes as he presses her harder into it, letting his thigh press into the ‘vee’ between hers.

The sound of the shop’s proprietor clearing his throat behind him is the proverbial bucket of ice water down his pants he needed. Both of their eyes snap open and she shoves him back instantly, allowing for some space between them.

Hot tears fall from her lashes and her gaze reflects her wounded, angry heart.

“Sir, Madam, this is a respectable establishment,” the shop owner states in a disapproving, clipped voice. “Please refrain from such behaviour while you are here, if you don’t mind. I would hate to have to ask you to leave.”

“I truly apologise, sir. It won’t happen again.” She quickly says, “as a matter of fact, I was just leaving.” She adds and Dean sends a pointed look in her direction that she purposefully ignores. She turns sideways to avoid her belly touching any part of him as she moves past, and then she is paying for her purchases. Too shaken up by the encounter they’ve just had, Dean does nothing but watch as she sweeps out the door without so much as a glance in his direction.

_Dean rose from the stool and approached Julie who still had her back to him as she washed the dirty cloth in the sink. She jumped as his hands came around her waist and his lips found the pulse in her neck. She shivered as his large hands skimmed over her sides and cupped her breasts. She moaned and turned in his arms, breaking his hold over her._

_She cupped his face in her hands and brought his lips to hers for their first kiss in months. He hummed into her mouth, his tongue quickly swiping at the tip of her tongue. And as his mingled with hers, he felt encouraged by her moan. His hands rested on her bum to lift her up and wrap her legs around his waist, walking them both to the direction of her room._

_He placed her to sit on the bed, her chest heaved with anticipation and her dainty feet barely skimming the rug on the floor by the bed. The yellow-orange lamplight outside the bedroom window the only illumination._

_“Dean…” she whispered, blinking rapidly as he suddenly pulled down her skirt. And she could only shiver from arousal and the cool temperature when he roughly tugged her underwear down her hips and over her legs so that she perched on the edge of the bed, half exposed. The plain black fabric of her lingerie dangling from her right ankle, and she gasped as Dean fell to his knees before her, his hands on her knees, spreading them apart. His face was strangely flushed in the half-light, like a man awed by an image of a goddess he was about to kneel before and worship._

_And worship, he did… his lips pressing kisses on either inner thigh, pushing his way forward, spreading her knees as he went until Julie felt her eyes roll into the back of her head at the first contact of his tongue to her already wet centre._

_She fell back slowly into the bed as his hands wrapped around her hips. He tugged the back of her knees wrapping about his shoulders. His lips and tongue feasted on her clit as her fingers tangled in his hair, her nails raked his scalp. When he pressed two fingers into her silken, soaked entrance from bellows and suckled her sensitive button, she fell apart immediately. A startled and throaty whimper passing her lips and sounding like a siren’s song to Dean’s ears._

_Her taste, her body, and her warmth were sheer ambrosia. He drank from her body deeply and contentedly. With a few more swipes of his tongue, his woman was sobbing and signalling for more. He rose to his full heights, watching her intently as he get rid of his clothing and toed out of his boots. Her long hair was like a blanket of warm earth over the dark blue comforter._

_Dean leaned over her, pulling off the remaining barrier of clothing from her yielding body. He kissed her breasts and drew one nipple into his mouth. He sucked on it, rolled it against the roof of his mouth, scraped it with the points of his teeth. Julie mewled and arched up to him as he moved to the other side._

_She could feel his already stiffened cock against her, and she rocked her hips._

_“Dean?” her voice was thick and unsteady, and his name was not uttered in questioning, but uttered out of lust induced haze, because she had felt a hint of urgency in his touch from the beginning. And the way he was touching and kissing her was more focussed, as if he was making sure he remembered every detail of her skin that his lips and hands traced._

_“Shhh..” he soothed, his hands wrapping about her waist, lifting her up with unexpected strength so that the length of her body fell entirely across the bed. He crawled over her and tugged her leg up around his back. Her hands instantly grasped his shoulders as he kissed her neck. The blunt head of his cock rubbed on her clit, then slid lower and pushed into her._

_He sank into her inch by inch, wanting to savour every moment and remember the feel as he stretched her to full. Dean balanced his weight on his hands and flexed his spine, pressing a kiss to her brow. He slid out of her to the tip, so slowly that Julie could feel the ridge that circled his member rubbing along every inch of her._

_Dean bent his elbows and touched his forehead to hers. Their gaze locked, and she was surprised to see blatant turbulent emotions in his eyes; affection, hope, and fear. “There’s something else I need to tell you,” he murmured._

_She slipped her hands around him, feeling the tension in his body as he held his position. “What is it?”_

_He caught her mouth and kissed her, languid and tender. She moaned, digging her nails into his shoulders and made him hiss._

_“I love you,” he said as he slid deep into her. He lowered to his elbows and kissed her throat as he set up a slow rhythm._

_Julie felt like she would die from the heady mix of pleasure and astonishment clashing as one through her whole body. Of all the things he could’ve said, she would’ve never guessed that would be the one that came out of his mouth. As Dean took her further out on the waves of lust with each thrust. She felt she couldn’t form a coherent sentence for there was only moans that escaped her lips. She purred and tried to tell him what she was feeling by wrapping her legs around his hips and forced the full weight of his body on hers. Her hands clawed at his upper arms._

_Her body was tight, tighter than he remembered, and he knew that between his fatigue and the heavenly sensations of her inner muscles clutching at his cock, it would not be long before he would fall apart._

_The brush of his lips against her neck, and the steady rhythm of his thrusts, pushed her nearer to orgasm. She shut her eyes and tightened around him. Dean groaned as her pussy squeeze his cock, and Julie felt him shiver. He gripped her hands and drove hard into her. He ground against her clit and bit her ear._

_“Come,” he commanded_

_Julie bucked beneath him. The order flared heat through her body and she screamed for him, her body singing as every muscle tensed. She was suddenly falling, falling off a precipice, her voice calling out in release, echoing through a void. And when she landed, Dean was there. His thrusts erratic before he grunted and stiffened. With a violent jerk, he came, his voice calling out as hers had in the crook of her neck. He filled her body, groaning and falling to rest his head to her damp breasts._

Dean finally finds out where she lives three weeks later. She is clever, using a fake alias so that her new neighbours would have no idea who Julie Holland was should Dean ever look for her. This leads him to think that she really is serious about staying away from him, and erase him completely from her life.

he is standing outside her house in the middle of the night and watching the lights in her living room flicker as she moves around. He would walk right to her door but he is also sure that the defensive wall of stubbornness that had come up between them at the store is still intact and hard to breach. Yet, he can’t make himself to leave either.

Sam has been right when he’s warned him months ago that it’s unhealthy to be pining away after a person who’s become _unobtainable_ now. The irony of it makes him chuckle sardonically for he is usually the one who’d tell his brother to stop chasing after some woman.

Her light goes out, plunging her house into darkness, and he wonders if she is going to bed now, or to take a relaxing bath.

“Sweet dreams, Julie.”

_When Dean lifted himself away from Julie’s hot and sweaty body, he was surprised to find tears sprinkled on her eyes, with her cheeks still quite flushed. Both stared at each other for a few moments before Dean finally could find his voice,_

_“What’s wrong?” he whispered, wiping a single tear on her left cheek with his thumb._

_“Who is your friend, Dean? The one that’ll help you remove the Mark?”_

_He blinked, and slowly, he began to understand that she must’ve noticed something. “why—“_

_“Just answer me!” She hissed, “the way you’ve been acting and saying things. I’m not stupid so don’t treat me like one. This is good-bye, isn’t it?”_

_“I’m gonna summon Death.” No point in lying._

_She felt a ragged sob pass her lips. It was good-bye. It was over._

_“I’m sure there’s another way—_

_“No, Julie.” He began, he was sick of having the same conversation again with different people. He knew where this would lead to and how it would end up. “This thing on my arm - it’s a curse. And there’s gonna be serious and deadly repercussions for even getting rid of it. And I thought that I could fight it – I can’t. I can’t keep doing this. There’s too much blood on my hands already.”_

_“What are you talking about?”_

_He began to recall the Styne massacre and other faceless casualties who merely happened to be in his way when the bloodlust was at an all-time high._

_Her eyes stung. The anger, the disappointment and the growing feeling of loss crept into her mind. “It was all affect of the Mark, right?” even as growing ugly realisation began to set on her face, she still aimed for the full picture, hoping to find some sort of acceptable balance for his actions. “You’re not inherently evil, as much as you would like to think.”_

_That was true. What difference did it make, he would like to ask. Slightly mad, maybe; vindictive, domineering, and at times cruel, but not evil._

_But Dean said nothing. Instead he closed his eyes, his face contorting with bitterness. Then he got up and reached for his clothes._

_He was giving up._

_“Sam won’t let you –”_

_He snorted derisively, “Sam is the reason I’m doing this.” Dean said, a hint of anger marring his voice. “He’s gotten more innocent people killed in his blind, selfish pursuit trying to save me. And he’s not gonna rest until the Mark is completely gone, doesn’t matter if casualties keep adding to statistics.”_

_“So there really is a cure.”_

_“Doesn’t matter.” He said dismissively_

_Julie suddenly felt like screaming at him. “Why are you acting like you don’t deserve to be saved?! Just because you think your actions are beyond redemption –“_

_“It’s not about redemption, Julie!” He rose to his full height when he was fully dressed, turning around to face her. “At this point in my life, I know very clear what’ll happen after I die. I’ve got no moves left except Death. This is the only way out where I can make sure that we don’t screw anything up anymore. The only way where there ain’t gonna be deadly, ugly, inevitable consequence whatsoever. So, why seek out a debt I can’t pay?”_

_Her heart hammered as she let his words sink in. She stared and stared at him until her eyes widened as understanding dawned on her. “We?”_

_As their gazes locked, she saw a change in his demeanour, and it was frightening. “Me and my brother will never truly rest as long as we’re still breathing. Because we’re both followed by evil. And our friends, family – they’ve all suffered enough - so, the only way to stop evil from following us and adding collateral damage in every of its passing is to—_

_“end both of your lives.” She supplied weakly, “You’d rather kill your brother than let him help you.” She whispered, staring at him in disbelief. The aura of caution turning quickly into one of anger._

_At those words, his lips twisted into a sneer. And for the first time, Julie faced the mad, maimed, fully-possessed-by-the-Mark Dean Winchester._

_“You’re mad.”_

_Her breathing quickened as he stepped closer to sit on the edge of the bed beside her, and she pressed her back on the headboard instinctively, clutching the sheet over her chest. His eyes burning the darkness. “I’ve finally found a way out.” He whispered into her ear, “I’ve never been saner.”_

_It was clear now, she knew, so clear that the fact of the matter pierced her heart. All the things he’d said about trying to stay away from her, and the thing he’d just confessed to her in her ear. They were all meaningless and were probably lies too. He had successfully destroyed any expectation she had._

_It had been a waste of her time to believe in him after all._

_“Why bother coming here and saying all of that stuff, then? If you already knew how it’s gonna play out eventually.”_

_She swallowed thickly when his hand came up to stroke her cheek, despite the dangerous aura that he was exuding, she didn’t lean away from his touch. She dared not breathe, dared not move._

_Dean leaned his face toward her, letting his eyes fall shut to take in her scent. if only fate had dealt a different hand._

_“I did this… to imagine what could have been and who I should have been if I hadn’t been born a Winchester.”_

_His hand moved then to grip her chin and capture her mouth with his._

_Despite her fear, anger, and confusion, she found herself falling into the kiss._

_“I meant what I said earlier, though.” He murmured against her lips, pressing his forehead to hers. She closed her eyes. Her chest collapsed and she felt like she couldn’t breathe. Her eyes stung because of the unshed tears. The harsh reality that would soon come blasting in her face made her reluctant to open them._

_She felt his finger wiped away her tears, traced her lips before his touch was completely gone, and the feel of close proximity of his body disappeared._

_When she dared to open her eyes, she found herself all alone in her room._

This little stalking thing he has going is not working for Dean. All it is doing is depressing him and so, he decides to still keep tabs on her from afar. He now knows the hospital where she goes for regular checkups and where she’ll plan to give birth in. So, he paid someone who works there to monitor the Reception desk in the hospital main lobby and inform him when the baby is due.

When Sam found out about the news, he was, as expected, shocked. But it surprised Dean even more when he told him that his dream of having his own family now could finally become real.

He realises that knocking on her door when she is nearing due time won’t be the wisest idea. It was actually Sam’s idea to wait until she gives birth before approaching her again. If he does right now, all it does is probably stress her out and it won’t do well for the baby. So, he refrains himself from knocking on her door for now.

**_Ten days later…_ **

Dean receives a text from the nurse at twenty past ten in the morning letting him know that Julie has arrived at the hospital earlier that day, having gone into labour. The nurse also advised him not to visit just then, as there is a full house of her friends.

It takes every bit of discipline he has to not just grab the key and goes to his car. Sam comments on how pale he’s suddenly turned, and asks what’s wrong.

He is suddenly curious about a lot of pregnancy-related things. How long does it take to give birth, anyway? Sam, who’s just as clueless as he is, tries to calm him down. But the way the nurse has made it sound, it’s something that could take hours. It certainly does not help that he once heard someone said that giving birth is the most painful thing a person could do, but how much is that, exactly, and what could he possibly compare such a feeling to? He knows from experience that taking a girl’s virginity hurts her. And passing something the size of a baby. Julie must feel like she is being split in two.

Dean feels completely stupid knowing next-to-nothing about the process of procreation after the sex stuff is finished. He is dying to know how Julie and the baby are doing.

That thought naturally paves the way for questions about what his son will look like once he comes into the world, and what his future holds after that. Will his son have his green eyes or Julie’s amber-honey ones? What will his given name be? What last name will be listed as on the birth announcement?

Galvanised by such thoughts, Dean abruptly stands up, grabbing his jacket and turns on his heel. When Sam asks where he is going, he tells him that he needs to clear his head and drive somewhere.

His brother looks like he doesn’t believe it for a second, but lets him head for the door without inquiring more.

.

It’s well over a week later and Dean can’t wait any longer. He needs to see her and their son. So, at seven thirty in the morning, he finds himself already at her door, accompanied by all kinds of anticipations of what would possibly followed after he knocked on her door.

Twenty seconds passes before the doorknob turns and a moment later, Julie is standing on the other side of the door.

His breath hitches in his throat.

She is beautiful, despite her obvious exhaustion, and her hastily tied-back hair, and the fact that she is wearing an oversized flannel that is too large for her frame. Soon the realisation hits him, it’s his flannel. He used to leave his clothes when he was staying for a couple of days. And the fact that she didn’t throw away his belongings when she moved out flares something inside his stomach that resembles relief and elation.

The moment passes when she tweaks an eyebrow at him. that one look lets him know that she thinks him as a complete idiot for appearing here at this early hour.

Dean reins in his annoyance, and demands. “Open up.”

Her stare goes flat. “No.” she counters, her voice muffles by the panes of glass between them. “Go away.”

“Julie, don’t mess with me right now. I’ve had enough of my waiting and I’m irritated. I’m desperate and… _fuck it_. I’ll punch my way through the glass. I swear, I will.” He threatens.

“Try it.” She dares him through narrowed eyes, completely unfazed by his warning.

He mentally sighs. It looks like there is going to be a stand-off between them, where neither of them will budge.

The cold morning air has chilled the glass between them, where fog is created upon its face. He then proceeds to write on it with a fingertip.

**_UOY EVOL I_ **

He surprisingly finds the phrase easy to write, even backwards.

**_YRROS MA I_ **

Julie stares at his poor attempt at reverse writing, and he can see her eyes going over and over every letter. The stubbornness still masking her face.

He grits back his teeth at her stubbornness. Then, realises the core problem of her obstinacy.

Slowly, he rolls up the right sleeve of his jacket and flannel, revealing a smooth skin of his arm, the skin absent from any cuts, bruises, and the Mark.

When he looks up at her again, her eyes are wide in apparent surprise at the revelation.

She averts her gaze between his arm and his eyes, the eyes that are looking at her expectantly.

She hesitates, but slowly, the hateful stare that has been clouding her eyes disappears. Instead, her eyes begin to change with emotion like honey.

Her hand goes for the lock on the glass and opens it, though she doesn’t make enough room for him to pass by.

But then, a beat later, she is in his arms, clinging to him and saying his name in a relieved tone of voice, and for the first time in a long time, Dean feels like he can breathe again.

.

.

He is so small, and a smile is forming on his little lips as he sees his mother and him looming over him. Dean wonders if he is the reason he smiles, and whether he instinctively understands that his father has come for him at last.

“What’s his name?”

Julie smiles at him as he leans over the crib, staring down at the miracle they’ve created together. His son inherits his green eyes.

“Zane.”

He reaches down with his free hand and very gently touches his son for the first time letting his fingertips trail down his cherubic cheek in the lightest of caresses. Instinctively, his son reaches up and grips his finger in his two tiny hands and holds tight, bringing his finger to his chin. Dean feels his heart beat hard under his ribs in response.

When he looks up at the mother of his child, the expression on her face is one of peace.

“I know this is probably too soon, but… about the last name—” Dean falters, unsure. Even though they have spent the better part of the morning talking, kissing, and holding each other, coming to an understanding and agreeing on making a future together, he is still a little bit unsure about how much Julie will allow him to get away with.

His woman gives him a brilliant smile, easing his doubts. “I like how Zane Winchester sounds. What do you think?” she asks him back.

“Zane fits my surname perfectly.”

She kisses him tenderly on the lips.

He can’t help the smile that creeps up on his lips almost naturally. For the first time since forever, he truly feels content, like everything finally falls into place.

“Will you move to the bunker with me?” he almost couldn’t stop himself from asking. He can’t wait to show his baby to Sam and Cass too. He feels like a true proud father.

“We would both love that.”

Zane suddenly lets out a shriek, one that resembles contentment. Both parents look down to find their son beaming and moving his hands and legs in excitement.

“Well, I think that settles it.” Julie says around a giggle.

He chuckles under his breath. “Yeah, I think it does.”

.

**FIN**


End file.
